Gingersnaps
by cheesynachos3
Summary: Gone are the days when Ginger Berry was an outsider, always on the fringes of friendship. She's swapped puppy fat and pigtails for make-up and hair straighteners and never looked back-until now. Ginger and Charlotte Puckerman are best mates, but when they befriend Alice Lopez, everything changes when they join Glee club.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Glee fanfiction, set 15 years after the regulars left and their kids are on the scene.**

Ginger Berry... it sounds like a colour on a paint chart, not a name. It sounds like a joke, or a new shade of hair dye, or one of those treacly sort of cakes that nobody really likes. What kind of parents would call their kid something like that?

Well, mine, obviously.

They didn't mean to ruin my life. They thought they were being quirky and cool and original, but actually they were working their way through the spice rack, taking inspiration from those little jars with funny names and even funnier ingredients. Seriously, if dad hadn't been a curry fanatic, it might have never happened.

They named my big sister Cassia, after a sort of aromatic tree bark you put in chicken korma, and me... well, they named me Ginger. My mother is Rachel Berry, she was on Broadway for a few years until she married my dad, Finn Hudson. My parents kinda spoiled me, they gave me dance lessons and vocal lessons. Also, she went to William McKinley High where she was part of the Glee club.

If I didn't have hair the colour of grated carrots, I'd maybe be able to forgive them... but then again, maybe not.

With the name Ginger, I didn't stand a chance.

I worked that out way back, on the very first day of middle school, when I told the teacher my name and saw her mouth twitch into a smirk. It was worse with the kids-they didn't just smirk, they laughed. The boys pulled my plaits and asked why my parents named me after my hair colour, and the girls asked if I thought I was one of the Spice Girls. Fun, huh?

I went home after the first day and told mum and dad I wanted a different name, like Kerri or Emma or Sophie, and they just laughed and told me not to be silly. It was good to be different, they said, and Ginger was a beautiful name-unique, striking, unforgettable.

Well, it was that, all right.

I never really knew what to say to the jokes and the teasing. "Don't let it get to you," Cass used to tell me. "Just laugh it off, or ignore it, ok?"

It was easy for her to say. She was in high school by then, cool and confident and always surrounded by friends. She had auburn hair too, but nobody ever seemed to call her names.

I worked out that the easiest way to avoid being teased was to keep my mouth shut, keep my head down and pretend I didn't care.

"She's very quiet," Miss Brown told my parents at the start of 6th grade. "A lovely girl, but she doesn't join in with the others much. Not at all like Cassia was."

I suppose I should be grateful Miss Brown didn't tell them the rest of it. How I never got picked for playground games, never had a partner for PE or project work, never got invited to sleepovers or parties or trips to the cinema with the other girls. I was an outsider, a loser. I tried to be invisible, sitting on my own in the lunch hall, eating an extra helping of apple pie and custard because it was something to do, a way to fill the time, a way to fill the hole inside of me, the place where the loneliness was.

"Have you seen her?" I heard Chelsie Abrams say to her friends one day. "she's soooo fat! I saw her eat two packets of crisps at break, and she had an extra helping of chips at lunch. Gross!"

I just sat and smiled and pretended I hadn't heard, and when Chelsie had gone I ate a Twix I'd been saving for later, without even tasting it.

I thought it would go on like that forever.

Mum and Dad were anxious by then, always asking if I wanted to invite a friend over for tea, or go to different clubs like Cass, or swimming club. "It'd be fun," Mum would wheedle. "You'd make lots of new friends, and get fit too..."

That's how I knew _they_ thought I was fat too, as well as a loser. I wasn't the right kind of daughter. I wasn't the kind of girl who could make a name like Ginger seem cute and quirky.

When my 11th birthday rolled around, Mum and Dad asked if I wanted a party. I said no, I was too old for that kind of thing.

"You're never too old for fun," Dad had said, and I could see a flicker of something behind his gaze. Worry? Disappointment? "You never have your friends round. What about a trip to the cinema, or the ice rink? Would that be grown-up enough for you?"

Sometimes, you go along with something, even though you know it's a bad, bad idea. "What if nobody comes?" I'd said feebly to Cass, but she'd just laughed.

"Of course they'll come," she'd said.

So we planned an afternoon at the ice rink, all expenses paid, followed by burger and chips in the café that looked over it. Mum had made a three-layer chocolate cake for afterwards, with eleven little candles. I was excited, in spite of myself. Cass let me use some of her sparkly eye shadow, and I wore my new pink minidress with the pop-art flowers, and a new pair of jeans. I thought I looked good.

We'd arranged to meet outside the ice rink at two. Alice Lopez and Teresa Rose arrived dead on time. They were best friends, geeky, serious girls who sometimes let me hang out with them at break. "Who else is coming?" they asked.

"Oh, everybody," I told them, even though there was already a little seed of doubt eating away at my heart. "Chelsie and Jenna and Carly and Faye... everyone."

I'd asked every girl in my class, because Cass said there was room for everyone at the ice rink, and even if they weren't all special mates, it would be a good chance to get to know them a bit more. I wanted to be the kind of girl who could invite a whole bunch of kids to her party. I didn't want to let her down. I asked everyone, and most people said they'd be there.

So where were they? At half past two, Dad looked at his watch for the 100th time and said maybe the others had got mixed up about the time. "Cass, take Ginger and the girls in," he decided. "Your mum and I can stay here for a bit, wait for the others. Perhaps they thought it was three?"

Alice Lopez took a folded invitation from her pocket and looked at it. "It says two," she said, and I hated her for that, for not pretending that there was a mistake or a misprint or a traffic jam in town... anything, anything at all to take away the sick ache inside me.

Cass took Alice, Teresa and me through to the rink. I felt like I was holding myself together, as if the slightest knock might make me crumble. There was a stinging sensation behind my eyes. We handed in our shoes and pulled on ugly white boots with sharp sliver blades, lacing them up tightly. Then we clomped across to the rink, wobbling slightly, and edged our way on to the ice. It was cold, and my feet felt like they could slip from under me at any moment.

At first all I could do was cling on to the edge, but Cass wasn't going to allow that, of course. She took my hand and prised me away from the rail, and slowly, haltingly, I took my first few steps on the ice. It was fun. Pretty soon the four of us were slithering about, grabbing on to each other and yelping with terror whenever anyone swooped past.

After a while, Cass spotted Mum and Dad, watching from the sides, and skated over to talk to them, leaving Alice, Teresa and me together. That's when I saw them-Chelsie, Jenna, Carly and Faye-just ahead of us on the ice.

My face lit up. They were here after all-Chelsie and the others, the four most popular girls in my class. It must have been a mix-up about the time, like Dad said. I skated towards them with a grin a mile wide.

Chelsie spoke first. "Hi, Ginger," she said. Her voice sounded mean and smirky, the way it always did when she spoke to me. Then again, that wasn't exactly often. "Thought we might see you here. Sorry we couldn't make your party... we had something better to do."

Chelsie and the others dissolved into giggles, while I shrugged to make sense of what she'd said. Couldn't make the party? Something better to do? But they were here, weren't they? And then it dawned on me.

They hadn't arrived late, Dad hadn't paid them in. They'd been here all along, watching, waiting. They were here to laugh at me. My cheeks flamed.

"Look!" Faye sniggered. "Her face matches her hair!"

I wished a hole would appear in the ice, a hole I could fall into and disappear forever. It didn't, of course. I was vaguely aware of Alice and Teresa just behind me, and I knew that Mum, Dad and Cass were here somewhere too. I tried to turn, to get away from Chelsie's cold eyes and Faye's twisted smile, but the blades slipped beneath me and I fell down, hard, with the sound of laughter in my ears.

Alice crouched beside me on the ice. "Ignore them," she said kindly. "Come one, Ginger. Don't let them win."

By the time I crawled on to my hands and knees, Chelsie and the others were skating away, looking back at me over their shoulders. "Honestly!" I heard Chelsie say. "She looks like a pig... a fat, ugly, ginger _pig_."

When I think back, that's the bit I remember. The shame, the hurt, the ice freezing my grazed palms and numbing my heart. I'll never forget it.

layer cakeand lit the candles, and everyone sang 'Happy Birthday'. My eyes slid away from the cake and down towards the rink below, where I could see Chelsie and Jenna and Carly and Faye skating round and round, laughing, tossing their hair, flirting with boys. I hated them, sure, but part of me wanted to be like them too.

I blew out the candles and made a wish.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope** you're** enjoying the story so far, the first chapter was introducing Rachel and Finn's daughter, Ginger and her sister Cassia.**

_ Chapter two-Meeting Charlotte and Riley Puckerman_

They say you should be careful what you wish for, but hey, I got what I wanted- I'm now at William McKinley High as a Sophomore, and things are very different. You _can_ make a wish come true, if you're determined. You can put the past behind you, be somebody new, and that's what I did. I moved on. These days, I try not to think about the sad, scared little girl I used to be... she's in the past, and that's a place I'm never going back to, not ever.

I met Charlotte Puckerman on my first day ever at William McKinley High. I held my head high, my shoulders back, the way Cassia had taught me. I'd tried so hard to look the part-Cass has taken me shopping for some new clothes. I looked good, but still, I was shaking inside. "First impressions," Cass had said. "They count, Ginger. Look confident. Act like you belong. You can do it"

I wasn't so sure. My heart was thumping so hard it felt like all the world would see it, and my stomach seemed to have turned into water. I flopped down in a corner of the classroom and started painting my fingernails with ten different shades of felt pen to camouflage the fear, and I wondered why, after all the hard work, all the effort, I was still alone. "Things will change for you, at high school," Cass had said. "I promise, Ginger"

But what if they didn't?

Then Charlotte Puckerman walked into the classroom, late as usual. I thought to myself _Charlotte Puckerman, why does that name sound so familiar? _She was Noah and Quinn Puckerman's daughter. She had long, shiny hair, like a waterfall of sunshine, and her skin was golden brown, as if she'd spent the whole of her life up till then in the sun. Well, she probably had.

She scanned the classroom, looking at each of us in turn, then grinned and pulled out the chair next to mine. "Love the hair," she'd said, one eyebrow raised. "strawberry blonde. cool". It had taken me an hour that morning to smooth it into place with styling serum and Cass's straighteners. I knew I'd do the same everyday from now on, if it meant that Charlotte liked my hair.

"We should stick together," she'd said, slicking on some lipgloss while the teacher's back was turned. "Friends, yeah?"

"Friends," I'd agreed.

Everything changed for me then. I had a friend, a cool, careless friend, the kind I'd always wanted. I never look back.

All that was a year ago now. It's the first day of a brand-new school year, the first day of being a Sophomore, and it's kind of chaotic. Younger and older teenagers are milling everywhere, younger teens in too big blazers and shiny shoes, clutching their bags and clogging up the pavements.

"Ugh," Charlotte sighs. "alumna's. They're just so... squeaky clean! Were we ever like that?"

"No way," I bluff. "Not a chance."

Charlotte laughs. A year ago, she walked into William McKinley High like she owned the place. She picked me out of the crowd in the mistaken belief that I was cool too, and I kept up the pretence until, somewhere along the line, I started to believe it myself.

Charlotte will never know how scared I was that day. Why should she? I've come a long way. Chelsie Abrams is a distant memory now. After primary, she was sent off to a private boarding school in Louie Ville, but even if she were here, she wouldn't recognize me, I swear. Jenna, Carly and Faye go to William McKinley High, though they're not in any of my classes. I catch them looking at me sometimes, in the lunch hall or at break, and I think I see a kind of respect in their eyes these days.

Whatever. I look right through them as if they don't exist.

"Last year was good, but this year is going to be fantastic," Charlotte says now. The buzzer sounds, and a million alumna's swarm through the entrance. Charlotte pulls a face and hooks my arm, leading me along the side of the music block, where there's a another way in. "We're going to be Juniors next year, it's so exciting!" she says. "We'll be all sophisticated and worldly and wise, and boys will fall at our feet..."

That's not such a big change for Charlotte. Boys fall at her feet all the time, or look at her with big moony eyes and try to chat her up. Charlotte plays it cool. She just tosses her hair and smiles to herself and walks right past. She's waiting for someone special, she says. Someone a bit cooler, a bit different, a bit more mature. She may have a long wait, at William McKinley High or... not.

As we pass the bicycle racks and head for the steps that lead up into the side entrance, we can see that our path is blocked. A long-legged boy in a black trilby hat is sprawled out across the steps, writing something on to his skinny black jeans with what looks like a white Tippex pen.

Charlotte squeezes my arm. "Hey," she whispers, and that one tiny word is loaded with all kinds of possibilities. "He's always late!"

I scan the hat, the jeans, the lazy way he's sitting across the steps, Converse trainers trailing their bootlaces. This boy is no alumna, that's for sure.

Charlotte drops my arm and walks right up to the boy. He may not have fallen at her feet, exactly, but he's sitting at them. He looks up from under the hat brim, revealing dark brown eyes, a crooked grin and a tangle of curly hair.

"Why are you always late?" Charlotte asked. She turned towards me "Ginger this is my twin brother, Riley Puckerman" Charlotte is saying.

His eyes flicker back to Ginger "I'm Riley Puckerman, Charlotte's brother" he says with a small grin.

Charlotte frowns. "This is my friend, Ginger Berry," she says carelessly.

Riley grins. "Nice one," he says. "It kind of fits!"

"So," Charlotte cuts in. "Did mum and dad send you here then?"

"Yeah, I got expelled from my last school," he says. "I started a food fight then punched someone."

Charlotte rolls her eyes. "Surprise, surprise," she muttered.

Riley looks like he doesn't much care, either about his sister or about being in trouble. "Shut up, Charlotte!" Riley shouted.

I see Charlotte blink, as if she can't quite believe her own ears. Well, maybe she can't.

"What are you doing to your jeans, anyway?" she asks, glancing down at the scrawl of spidery white Tippex writing on his jeans. "Principal Figgins won't be too pleased."

Riley shrugs. "Were not allowed to Tippex anything on our clothes now," he says. "So I thought I'd customize them, make them look more the part."

The scribble of Tippex reads: _School days are the best days of your life._

Charlotte rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right," she says.

"Whatever. You're in my way, OK?"

Riley Puckerman gets to his feet, stepping to one side, still grinning at me from underneath the hat brim. Charlotte huffs, hooks my arm through mine, and marches me up the steps.

"See ya," Riley Puckerman calls after us, raising his trilby hat. "Gingersnaps."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3-Alice Lopez_

It just doesn't happen, usually. Boys do not notice me, not when Charlotte is around. This is a first, and I can tell she's not happy about it. By break time, Charlotte has rewritten our encounter on the steps-and her brother has gone from possible crush material to all-out freak. Charlotte really does hate her twin brother, I can tell by the way she looks at him and speaks to him.

"My brother is such a weirdo," she says. "You know the boy who wears that hat."

We're holed up in the girls' loos, hogging the mirror, sharing strawberry lip-gloss and smoothing our hair. I'm not scared to look at my reflection these days-the puppy fat has long gone, and so has the anxious, don't-pick-on-me look.

"Yeah... my brother is dodgy, I can tell. It's not even like he's good-looking, is it?"

"Er... no," I say loyally. "Not really."

But Riley Puckerman made my cheeks burn, my heart beat faster.

"Not good enough for either of us," Charlotte declares. "Who in the world would want to go out with my stupid brother?" She laughs, leaning towards the mirror to wipe away smudge of eyeliner. "We're looking for cool boys, this year," she goes on. "Forget sophomores... I'm thinking Juniors minimum..."

She trails away into silence as a gasping, snuffling sound drifts out from the cubicle behind us.

"What's that?" The sound of sorrowful nose-blowing can be heard, and then silence.

"Hello?" Charlotte prompts. "Are you okay in there?"

"Just... leave me alone," a small voice says, and then the buzzer erupts to signal the end of break, and Charlotte shrugs and heads for the door. "Come on," she says. "We'll be late for Maths."

The door swings shut behind her. I'm just about to follow when the cubicle door creaks open, and Alice Lopez peers out. Her face is blotchy and streaked with tears, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Oh," she says. "I thought you'd gone."

I should be gone, along with Charlotte, but I look at Alice and somehow I can't walk away. I've avoided Alice Lopez, pretty much, ever since I started William McKinley High. She was never one of my tormentors-but she witnessed it all, she knew how things used to be, and I don't need any reminders of that. I can't really ignore her now, though.

"What's up, Alice?" I say.

She just shakes her head, blotting at the tears with a sleeve. Whatever the problem is, I don't really want to know-I've had enough of tears and hurt to last me a lifetime. But I remember Alice crouching beside me on the ice, at the birthday party long ago, telling me not to let Chelsie win. She took my hand and helped me to my feet, helped me off the ice, and I owe her something for that, I guess.

"Hold on," I tell her. "Wait there." I push out into the corridor, where Charlotte is waiting, leaning against the noticeboard.

"Er, Maths?" she reminds me. "Remember?"

I bite my lip. "Rescue mission," I explain. "It's Alice Lopez... she's really upset. Tell Mr Jones I'm on an errand of mercy. I'll be there as soon as I can..."

"Alice Lopez?" Charlotte asks doubtfully.

I shrug. "She used to go to my old school," I explain. "Look, I won't be long. Just cover for me..."

She rolls her eyes and tells me I'm crazy, then ambles off to Maths. Back in the girls' loos, Alice Lopez is slumped on a toilet seat lid, wiping her nose with a long banner of scratchy loo roll. I fish out a clean tissue from my bag and hand it over.

"So," I say. "Are you going to tell me what's up?" Fresh tears well up in Alice's glassy blue eyes, spilling down over apple-pie cheeks. "Is it something at home?" I ask gently. "Something to do with your parents? Is somebody ill?"

She shakes her head. I sigh. Am I supposed to go through every possible problem until I hit the right one? It could take all day.

"Look, Alice," I say. "Can I get someone else for you? A teacher, maybe? Or Teresa?"

Alice starts to wail. I'm horrified. I wish I was in maths- I wish I was anywhere, really, anywhere but here. I put a tentative hand on Alice's shoulder, and she grabs on to me, sobbing, making a damp patch on my shirt. "Alice?" I appeal, a note of panic in my voice.

She pulls back abruptly. "Sorry," she whispers. "I'm really, really sorry, Ginger. I'm just... well, I'm just being silly."

"Silly?"

"It's Teresa," she says, her voice a little bit wobbly. "Teresa's gone. Her dad got a new job in the UK, and they've moved. I'm going to miss her so, so much..."

I blink. Alice and Teresa have been best friends since birth, just about. Serious, boring best friends, but still. And now Teresa has gone? "Alice, I'm sorry," I tell her. "You're bound to miss her, but you can stay in touch, and you'll make new friends. It's the start of a new school year, a fresh start..."

Alice looks uncertain.

"Come one," I tell her. "I did it, didn't I?"

She takes a deep breath in, dredging up a smile. "I know, I know," she says. "Like I said, I'm just being silly. I'll be fine. Look, thanks, Ginger." Alice splashes her face with cold water from the sink, combs back her straggly brown hair and straightens her tie. "I look terrible," she says. "My head's splitting too. I might go down to the office and see if I can see the school nurse. What an idiot."

"You're not," I tell her. "You're really not. Want me to come to the office with you?"

"No, no, I'll be fine now," Alice says. "Honestly."

We head out into the corridor, and Alice turns one way, me the other.

"It'll work out OK," I call after her. "I promise."

It's kind of a rash promise, but I feel sorry for Alice Lopez. She's on her own now. "Maybe she'll find out how it feels to hang around on the fringes of a friendship, the way I used to with her and Teresa, hoping that someone will look up and smile and notice you're alive.

Still, that's not my problem, is it?


End file.
